There is a spiderweb on the back of my kitchen sink. Not on the bottom, in the cupboard, where no one would notice it. I mean, why would that be an option. It’s right there on top, below the window, going from some glass milk container I have to return to the grocery store for $3 and the bell jar that sits next to it. The spider who occupies the web is just a little guy, something that doesn’t even make much of a blip on the radar my spider fearing ass.

But I let it be. Why? Because I don’t have an ant problem anymore. Well, I do, but it’s cleaning up their tiny little carcasses.

So I texted the following to Joy, my sister, tonight:

There’s a spider that lives just behind my sink. On the top, so I can see the web. But I let it go because it eats all the ants. Either way, I’m kind of trashy.

Her reply:

The spider probably says, “There’s this fat fucker that lives in my house, but I let it go because it leaves food out that draws ants. Either way, I’m kind of trashy.”

For the record, I don’t leave food out.